Stars
by mollylock
Summary: (Sherlolly AU) Moriarty has plans for Sherlock's destruction. Make him jump, kill him. Simple. But what if he could break him? Take away the one thing that mattered most. Molly.
1. Molly

Stars

A Sherlolly AU

Molly saw the car outside 211b. It had an official look about it, but it wasn't Mycroft's. She had just popped by to make sure Sherlock was okay, he hadn't been replying to her texts lately. Could something be wrong? She knocked the door sharply. It open more quickly than she had expected. She thought Mrs Hudson would answer and was about to step in, when she bumped in to a bulky man in a suit. He was dark skinned and huge, towering over Molly like a tree. She stepped back.

"Oh, sorry. I just wanted to see Sherlock. Is he okay?" she asked quietly. The man grunted.

"You don't need to see him right now," he responded bluntly. Molly, shocked, took a step back. She swallowed and picked up her courage.

"Yes, I do," she replied, walking towards him again. He reached out to stop her. Her heart was beating fast. Not thinking, she grabbed the knocker and flung the door at his head. He fell back with a thud. Molly stumbled.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry!" she squealed. He was out cold. She took a step inside and shut the door. She reached down to do something about her casualty and stopped, remembering why she was here. She stood up again and began to panic. Should she go up and find Sherlock or wait for the man to come to? Still panicking, she dashed upstairs and frantically knocked the door of the flat. It was thrown open and she was grabbed by the collar. Another giant of a man was standing there, holding her up by the collar.

"This one of yours?" he asked, smirking. Sherlock and John were standing by the fireplace, John looking angry and Sherlock slightly scared, as scared as a man with little to no feelings can look. The detective just nodded, his eyes wide and alarmed. Molly tried to fight the man that was holding her, but another one appeared from behind and grabbed her arms.

"Sherlo-" she started to call, but the man holding her arms shifted his arm over her mouth without letting go. Sherlock stared into her fear-stricken eyes. Even scared, full of tears, they were beautiful. He shook the thought from his head.

"Let her go," he said sternly, but his voice shook with fear, "I'll give you what you want, just let her go!"

A familiar figure in a suit emerged from behind them. He laughed manically and put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. Moriarty.

She'd never seen Sherlock cower in front of anyone before. Moriarty paced around them. He had a malicious grin.

"But that would be _boring, _wouldn't it Sherlock?" his voice was smooth and sweet. Dangerous. He moved in front of the duo.

"It would be more fun if we got rid of your friend here," he gestured to Molly, "a game of hide and seek? Sounds fun, doesn't it Sherlock?"

He was right up in the detective's face. Sherlock's eyes reflected his fear, but he remained calm.

"Leave her. I'll give you what you want, JUST LEAVE HER!" he shouted. A tear rolled down Molly's cheek. The criminal nodded to the man who was holding her arms. The man removed a syringe from his suit pocked, filled with red liquid.

"No, stop!" Sherlock called. He looked like he was going to cry. It was too late. He stuck the syringe into Molly's arm and pushed the liquid into her veins.

"Sh-Sherlock…" she trailed off and her vision became blurry. Her vision became blurry as she was pulled out of the door.


	2. False Hope

Stars

Chapter 2

Molly woke up in a dark room, her vision swimming and her ears ringing. She gasped, her throat dry and flaky. She estimated that she'd been out for about a day. She needed water. She slowly picked herself off of the wooden floor. She shakily walked around the room, in search of something to drink. There was a door to her right. She tried the handle. Locked. What did she expect? She turned around and let her eyes adjust to the dim light. She saw a glass of water on the floor in front of her. She was wary that it might be another poison. But her thirst won. She gulped down the whole glass. As she was about to finish, she heard a familiar voice.

"Dear, dear, don't drink it all at once!" said Jim. Molly sat up and wiped her mouth. She scanned the room, but saw no trace of the consulting criminal.

"Where are you?" she asked, trying to be brave.

"He won't find you," Moriarty continued, ignoring her question, "24 hours, Miss Hooper. If he doesn't find you by then, I'll burn you."

A wave of fear ran through Molly's veins. She was fighting back tears.

"Y-You'll burn me?" she stammered, careful not to set off a flood of tears.

"Quite a love story we've got here," he went on, ignoring her again, "the damsel in distress. But he's not coming for you."

Molly didn't respond. She slid against the wall and released the tears she had been holding in. Moriarty's voice stopped. She didn't know how long she spent crying. It felt like hours. She wished she had saved some of the water, she was getting thirsty again. But Sherlock would come… Wouldn't he?

It must have been at least 4 hours since she'd spoken to Moriarty. Her head was filled with doubts. Sherlock hadn't given up on her, had he? She loved him, she really did. But he didn't love her. Sherlock would never love anyone, much less her. She had to go and play the hero. She couldn't save him, or John. She wasn't even sure what she had been trying to save them from. Sherlock had mentioned giving them something, what could it be? It was no use trying to distract herself. She was afraid. Very afraid. Not just that she would die, but that she'd die knowing Sherlock didn't love her, hadn't even tried to save her. She didn't know what to do. Jim's voice sounded again.

"He's not looking very hard, Molly. I don't think he's even looking at all."

That's all he said, and all he needed to say. Molly felt everything come crashing down at once. The love story was all in her head, just an illusion. All her hope was fading. A tear rolled down her cheek. All that was left to do was wait. Wait in false hope.


	3. Stars

Stars

Chapter 3

"You have 12 hours left Sherlock, or she dies," said the voice on the phone. Sherlock stood still until he heard the caller hang up. He had searched for hours without rest, followed the clues, but still there was nothing. He sat down on the park bench and rested his head in his hands. He had kept up his emotionless act for so long, and now the walls that he had built around himself were crumbling. He felt the wet tears on the palm of his hands.

"I'm sorry, Molly," he whispered.

"You're not giving up on me, are you?" asked a voice from beside him. He looked up to see Molly. The girl he loved, but never told her. She sat down beside him and looked up at the dark sky.

"Beautiful, isn't it? No clouds, just stars…" she smiled, "remember Sherlock? Our star?"

She pointed to a shining white dot in the massive black blanket that stretched above them. And Sherlock remembered.

_The young Molly giggled. She grabbed Sherlock's coat sleeve and pulled him up the hill. She fell on to the grass and stared up at the sky._

"_Look, Sherlock!" she called. He dropped down to the ground and stared at the sky. To Molly, it was beautiful. The sleek black sky painted with droplets of light, shades of the darkest blue and purple swirling through the dark. To Sherlock, it was just a fact. Burning balls of gas suspended in space that held no real beauty to him. But for Molly's sake, he pretended._

"_It's beautiful, Molly," he smiled. Molly pointed to a particularly bright star. Sherlock looked in the direction she pointed and didn't have to guess what she pointed to. Even to a child who didn't know beauty, it was truly magical. For a single moment, all the facts and figures melted away and all that was left was Sherlock and Molly, bathed in the light of their star. _

"_That's our star, Sherlock," she whispered, as if she didn't want to disturb the scene before them. _

"_No, Molly," Sherlock corrected, "it's your star."_

_Molly's gaze broke away from the shining light and fixed on her own shining light. Sherlock. She smiled and looked back up._

"_Oh, Sherlock. I can't keep something so beautiful to myself. I'd be selfish. It's our star."_

_Sherlock had never experienced sentiment in this way before. He wasn't sure that he liked it. But for once in his life, the dark-haired boy held his tongue. For Molly._

_For Molly._

The flashback ended and Sherlock found himself staring into the black sky. Only now, he saw what Molly saw. Swirling shades of purple and blue, stars that twinkled delicately, as though they might fall. And there, exactly where it had been all those years ago was Molly's star. Their star. A tear fell down the detective's cheek. He never cried. Molly was so important to him, and he had let her fall through his fingers. He looked to the side, where she had been before, but she was gone. A figment of his imagination. He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved his phone. He checked the clock. He'd been sitting there for an hour. 11 hours left to find Molly.

"I won't give up, Molly," he whispered.


End file.
